Past Imperfect
by Rimshot49
Summary: Immortals Cassius Polonius (a Roman-Italian) and Ceirdwyn (A former Iceni-Celt princess) are longtime lovers. Ceirdwyn convinces a reluctant Cassius to help her bring an ex-Nazi war criminal who murdered her mortal husband and tortured her in 1945 to justice.


Past Imperfect by Patrick B. Miano

12

**Past Imperfect**

**By Patrick B. Miano**

**A fantasy adventure-romance from the Watchers Chronicles of the Immortals**

**Part I **

"Oh Cassius, these are so lovely. Thank you". Ceirdwyn admired the dozen long-stemmed red roses as though they were made of gold. The tall, handsome man seated across the small outside table of the Paris café where they were having an early dinner beamed like a little boy being praised by his adoring mother. "You always remember," she said.

"How can I forget, Cara Mia?" Cassius replied.

All around them, people spoke in several different languages. Two nice-looking American women spoke English in mock French accents, laughing and joking as they shared a bottle of fine Merlot. No one noticed that the attractive, twenty-something man and woman were speaking to each other in Latin.

The man born Cassius Polonius, now known as Cassio "Cas" Polizzotto, took the small, soft hands of the lovely former Celtic Iceni princess in his and kissed them. His own hands were large and strong, but surprisingly gentle.

"A man does not forget the day he first met the beautiful woman he has loved for 2,000 years; not even a man as slow-minded as I."

Ceirdwyn winced as though he had insulted her instead of himself. "You're not slow-minded. Those of us who know you know better. It's not your fault you can't concentrate sometimes. Methos did that to you." She looked into his face and thought back to a time long past.

They had first met, in 62 AD, shortly after the Battle of Watling Road in Britain. Despite having suffered a series of brutal and humiliating defeats, 10,000 Roman soldiers, led by the brilliant General Gaius Suetonius Paullinus, had defeated over 80,000 Celtic warriors led by the beautiful and equally brilliant Queen Boudicca. Ceirdwyn had made a heroic last stand, only to be stabbed in the back by a cowardly Roman mortal. When she revived as an Immortal, she continued the fight, even though her queen and most of her family and comrades were dead. She had thought that the Celtic goddess Andraste had rewarded her for her devotion and sacrifices. How wrong she had been.

One day, while evading Roman patrols in a dense forest, she felt a sudden, sharp pain inside her head. She looked up and saw Cassius, staring at her with his sword down. He recognized him from Watling Road. She had seen him fighting beside his centurion, whom she later learned was Marcus Remus. They were two giants in an army of pissants, and together, they had slain many Iceni.

Ceirdwyn charged Cassius, intending to make him pay. She was a master with a sword, but in five seconds he disarmed her and stabbed her through the heart. Then, instead of beheading her, he carried her over his shoulder to a secluded cave where the other Romans could not find her. At first she thought he was going to violate her, and swore she'd fight him to the death. But to her utter amazement, he seemed genuinely hurt that she thought he would do that. She soon learned that this Roman was different. He secretly believed in a god unlike any other, a nameless god of justice and mercy. It was a day that changed the course of her life forever.

"It was in battle, Ceirdwyn. He was a soldier with the Carthaginians and I was a Roman legionnaire. It was his duty."

Ceirdwyn's mind snapped back to the present. "To trample you and crush your skull with a war elephant while you lay helpless on the ground? Cassius, I can't understand how you can be so forgiving. For that matter, I've often wondered why Remus didn't kill him if you wouldn't. You're always so protective of each other. Is he afraid of Methos?" She had wanted to ask that question for nearly 2,000 years.

Cassius shook his head. "Methos could never outfight Marcus. He is too good a fighter. They both know this."

Ceirdwyn looked into Cassius' gentle blue eyes and touched his face. "You asked him not to, didn't you?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

Cassius nodded. "Yes, it is true. What good would it do? It would not make me smart again." He looked down at the table, remembering his mortal days when he showed great promise as an engineer and builder. He still mourned those days at times.

"I could never be like that. I never have been. When Steven was killed..." Ceirdwyn couldn't talk anymore. She buried her face in her hands. Cassius moved his chair closer and put his arms around her.

"I should have been with you, Ceirdwyn. Forgive me." He stroked her long, brown hair, and softly kissed her forehead.

Ceirdwyn looked up at him and smiled slightly. "No, dear Cassius. You couldn't have known. You were in Colombia, helping Marcus Remus free those hostages. You were doing good, like you always do."

"And so I only came in time for the funeral, after Duncan Macleod did what I should have done. At least he did not fail you."

"No," she replied. "After I'd gotten justice, I needed you in a way I didn't need Duncan, wonderful a man as he is. You were there to support and comfort me. You have a good heart, one of the many reasons I love you."

Cassius held her a little more firmly and rocked back and forth. "I love you too, Ceirdwyn, very much."

She gently stroked his jet-black hair. "My poor, sweet Cassius. You have so much love to give; yet you deny it to yourself. My fifteen years with Steven were wonderful, but I never stopped thinking of you, of how lonely you must be."

Cassius sighed deeply. "Marriage is not for someone like me, Ceirdwyn."

"So you say, but I think it's just another thing you let Marcus Remus control."

Cassius stiffened slightly. "He is my papa, Ceirdwyn. He was the first person who was ever kind to me. His mortal wife, Emilia, was my mama. The pain of her death and of his other mortal and immortal wives became too much for him to bear."

Ceirdwyn took his hand again. "Marcus Remus is a hard man. You're not."

"Marcus has been a warrior and a soldier for almost 5,000 years. He knows no other way, but he is a decent man, Ceirdwyn. Like Methos, he has changed much."

She laughed softly. "Oh, Methos has changed all right. He's gone from immoral to amoral in 5,000 years."

Cassius looked at Ceirdwyn in frustration, shaking his head. "I don't understand what that means, Ceirdwyn. I'm not smart like you. Always your kind nature blinds you to that. Right now, I am not so bad, but you know it never lasts. I am the joke of our kind. They say I am the little boy in the giant's body, and they are right."

She caressed his hand, her emerald green eyes looking into his. "No, that's not true. You are a man any decent woman would be proud of. You know I love you. I would marry you today if you asked me."

"You would be miserable with me."

"Never. It can work among our kind. The deValicourts have had a good marriage for 300 years, and you're as good a man as Robert."

"They live in a romance novel. I am a simple man. I could never give you the life Robert gives Gina. You know all about music, art, and poetry. You need a cultured man like Duncan, not a _gavone_ like me."

"Why do you think I only married mortals?" Ceirdwyn asked her voice strong and firm. "I knew that at best they would all grow old and die. I loved them all, especially David and Steven, but I never gave up hope for us."

Cassius shook his head again. "Mamma mia, always it comes back to this. Please Ceirdwyn; I came because you said you needed me to help you right an old wrong." A quizzical look crossed his face. "You mentioned David. That was almost 60 years ago. Is it about him?"

She let go of Cassius' hand, sat back in her chair, and took a deep breath. "Yes. I finally found von Bock. He's 83 years old and in a wheelchair, but his mind is as twisted and vile as ever, the swine." Her face was contorted with the pain of 57 years.

It had happened in 1945, in the Dachau German concentration camp , just before it's liberation by the Americans. Ceirdwyn was an agent for the SOE, the British Secret Service. Her partner was Captain David Fielding, a dashing British Army officer she had periodically worked with over the last 5 years, and had secretly wed a few months before. They had been captured soon after and sent to the camp. Dieter von Bock, at 26 an oberst (colonel) in the _Tottenkopf _SS was the commander of a special extermination force under orders from Hitler himself. They went from camp to camp, making sure certain "high priority" prisoners would never live to be freed by the advancing Allies.

He had taken a special interest in David and Ceirdwyn, especially Ceirdwyn. He had herded all the high priority prisoners together, and noticed their closeness. He did things to her, things that still made her weak with revulsion whenever she recalled them. He had tied up David and made him watch. Then von Bock tied up Ceirdwyn, and made her watch as he took his SS dagger and slowly butchered David. She had almost prayed he would take her head with it when he was done. Instead, he nonchalantly wiped the blood off on her clothes, sheathed it, and shot her in a leg artery, thinking she would slowly bleed "to death". His vicious laughter as he walked away had been in her nightmares ever since. When she finally revived, he and his men were long gone.

Cassius' gentle touch on her shoulder at first chilled Ceirdwyn then brought her mind back to the present. "Cara Mia", he said, "I know he did many terrible things to you. I know what you want, but please, don't do this. He has hurt you enough."

"He has always known me so well", she thought. Once more, her mind went back, to a Red Cross hospital in Holland, shortly after World War II had ended. Cassius had spent most of the war fighting with the Italian partisans, but had begun searching for her as soon as the Germans in Italy had surrendered. He had gone to Marcus Remus, now Mark Remo, an officer with the American Army's paratroopers and OSS (the American counterpart of SOE) and enlisted his help. They had found her lying in a cot, nearly catatonic. She was awaiting transport to Britain, and an asylum. While Remus/Remo ran interference with the staff, Cassius picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the hospital. From there he took her to a remote villa on the coast of Sicily. There, with love, caring, and the help of Sean Burns, an Immortal Scottish psychiatrist Duncan had recommended, he patiently nursed her back to health.

But that had been many years ago, and now fate had finally given her the chance she had wanted so desperately. "Someone has to do something, Cassius. He can't be allowed to die in peace, unpunished, with his children and grandchildren mourning him as if he were just another sweet old man, instead of the mortal monster he is." Her voice was low, cold, emotionless, and Cassius was frightened, for her.

"He runs a criminal gang, a big one," she continued. "After the war he worked for both sides during the Cold War. He gathered files and records on every important person who ever made a mistake or had something to hide. He blackmails, corrupts, and he still kills, even if he doesn't pull the trigger anymore."

"He is very old and sick, Ceirdwyn. He will die soon anyway," Cassius said. "What will you gain by killing him?"

"I want him to know!" I want him to know some of the pain he caused David, me, and who knows how many others! I have to be the one to stop him!"

Cassius held up his hands in front of him, as though pleading. "And you want me to help you do this? You want me to help you do murder?"

She leaned forward. "Darling, if not for you I might still locked away in an asylum, little more than a vegetable. You know what he did to David and me. You mean the world to me, but I am doing this, with or without you. I owe it to David."

Cassius closed his eyes and turned his head away. "I only met David once, Ceirdwyn, when we went on that mission together in Turin in 1944. But I don't think he would have wanted you to do this. I know about your vendetta when Steven was killed. This would be even worse". She just stared at him, not saying a word.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Cara Mia, I will go with you because I do love you. But because I love you, I cannot let you destroy your soul. We must turn him over to the police. Promise me this, please."

She stared into space for what seemed to him to be a very long time. "Okay then," she said abruptly, throwing up her hands. "We'll do it your way." Then she smiled, but her eyes were sad and mournful as they met his. "Let's finish our dinner, and then we can take a walk together. We haven't done that in a long time, even for us."

He smiled back, surprised but visibly relieved. "That will be nice. But let me go to my hotel and change first, if I can remember where it is. I was so anxious to see you, I am still wearing the clothes I had on when I left Hong Kong, and I need a shower." He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "See? I told you. 'The Dunderhead of Rome'."

She chuckled softly as she ran her finger up and down his hand. "I cancelled your reservation," she said coyly. "Your bags are at my house. You'll have more room. Besides, I think I could use a shower too, and I know a fantastic way to conserve water." 

Part II

It was a week later, and after hurried but intensive planning, they were now completing their preparations deep in a forest in the German-speaking part of Switzerland. They hadn't had much rest. Ceirdwyn didn't want it, and Cassius didn't seem to need it. There was too much to do. Getting there had been easy, but the rest wouldn't be.

Cassius had been doing well, and had not had any periods of regression. The long-forgotten medicine Darius had taught him how to prepare ages ago was still working well. Normally he used it sparingly, as Darius had warned him, so it would be effective longer. But he needed to stay lucid for now, so he had taken it often. Eventually it would stop working altogether, and he feared that day. Darius, a victim of renegade Watchers, was gone now. How he missed the pacifistic priest, even if Marcus didn't.

Posing as hikers, they made their way into a small valley where a giant castle stood on the shore of a modest but beautiful lake. The castle looked much like it must have in centuries past, except for the antennae, satellite dishes, and other electronic paraphernalia sticking out of the roof. By nightfall, they were almost ready. As expected, it was a moonless night. While they changed into their black assault suits and checked their weapons, including their swords, they noted the armed guards and gun posts.

"Madonna," whispered Cassius, "This is worse than when we rescued that partisan leader from the Nazis back in 1943."

"Much worse", Ceirdwyn replied. That mission had cost the lives of three of their mortal teammates. "They have security measures no one ever dreamed of back then. But we have equipment I'm sure even they haven't dreamed of, thanks to you."

"Knowing Marcus can open many doors," he admitted.

They put on their special, multi-task night goggles and set them to see in the dark and detect the ultra-red security beams that guarded the approaches to the castle. Silently, careful to stick to the cover of the woods, they made their way towards the castle. Despite his size, Cassius easily kept up with Ceirdwyn, moving through the woods as quietly and gracefully as she.

Soon they were as close as the trees and bushes would allow. They took out and activated the miniaturized Israeli-designed metal detectors they would also need to infiltrate through the open space around the castle. Then, they waited. After about 15 minutes, two guards passed each other, nodded in recognition, and went on their way.

"Now", Ceirdwyn whispered, lightly smacking Cassius' shoulder. Wasting no time, they scurried across the open space and carefully made their way through the security beams undetected. Ceirdwyn never ceased to be amazed by Cassius' performance in combat. Was it instinct, animal cunning, or a natural intelligence? Who knew? What mattered was that he could fight as well as any other Immortal she knew.

The minefield took a little longer, but they still managed to make the corner concealed by darkness that was also the one blind spot in the surveillance camera system, just in time to evade discovery by the two guards when they passed each other again. When they passed on, the two infiltrators fired their rappelling hooks over the parapets where they took hold. Then they climbed up the castle wall, not saying a word and staying in the narrow corridor of safety. "I've been preparing for this for years", Ceirdwyn thought, "and I've prepared well."

When they finally reached the top, they ran to an air duct, removed the cover, and made their way in. It was so large, even Cassius had no problem. After a few minutes, they dropped down from a large ceiling vent to the floor of an empty corridor.

"How did you know this area would be empty?' he asked her.

"This leads to the main kitchen," she explained. "It's closed at this hour." She took out her map and removed the goggles. The corridor was well lit, so they didn't need them anymore. She checked her watch. Everything was on schedule for now.

"You know exactly where the old man is, don't you?" Cassius took off his own goggles and studied the map with her.

"Of course," Ceirdwyn replied, a little impatiently. "He's where he always is at this time. In his study, sipping cognac and listening to Mozart while he smokes Turkish cigarettes in a holder, playing the Prussian Junker to the hilt. A very predictable target." She smiled, and her smile chilled Cassius.

"Dio mio, do you feel that?" he asked suddenly. It was the sensation of other Immortals, and they were coming closer.

"Yes, two of them, and they sense us too. Damn it, I didn't know about them! They'll sound the alarm any second now!" She drew her British saber and Cassius drew his Roman Iberus sword.

"I don't think so," he told her. "They would have done that by now. They want us. For once I am grateful for the stupid "Game."

Two blonde-haired men, both a little shorter than Cassius and dressed in black uniforms, turned a corner and came into view. One looked about 35, the other in his twenties. They put down their AK-47 assault rifles and smiling hideously, drew long shining swords.

"I am Rolf Moder," said the older-looking one in native German. He nodded in the direction of the younger one. "This is Manfred Prochnow. I know who you are, Roman. No other Immortal gives off such a signal. It is as notorious as your stupidity."

"Typical of an Italian, Rolf". Prochnow, also a German, snickered as he looked at the woman. "This must be the beautiful Ceirdwyn. We all know how he follows you like a puppy dog, Fraulein."

"Shut up and fight", she said. Her body tensed, ready to do battle.

"This is not your fight," Cassius protested. "We have not come for you. I do not play the 'Game'."

"So you said when you first defeated me when I challenged you in 1916, during the Battle of Caporetto. You spared me then. You should have taken my head. You really are a fool. I am much better with a sword now. Besides, von Bock pays well."

Cassius shrugged. "I don't remember."

"I do!" Moder shouted. He raised his sword and charged towards Cassius while Prochnow attacked Ceirdwyn. The clanging of their swords echoed through the castle halls and sparks fuel as steel struck steel. The two Germans were skilled, and they had decades of training and experience. But Cassius and Ceirdwyn both had millennia.

The battle was furious but short. Cassius stopped Moder's two-handed slash by grabbing his wrist. Then he ducked in and ran him through. The German glared at the ex-legionnaire with contempt, and cursed him as he fell to the ground. Seconds later, Ceirdwyn sidestepped Prochnow's thrust, and plunged her saber into his side. He knew what would come, and there was terror in his eyes as he fell.

Ceirdwyn turned to Cassius. "Take both their heads! I'm going for von Bock. We have to hurry!"

"No, Ceirdwyn! That would be murder. This is not about them. Besides, the Quickenings will weaken me! I won't be able to help you!"

Ceirdwyn was not swayed. "You recover faster than anyone I know. They're only mercenaries and probably Nazis, as bad as von Bock. Now do it! Then meet me outside the drawing room." Without waiting for a reply, she raced down the hall.

As she guessed, the alarm started ringing, so loud it nearly shattered her eardrums. "Why doesn't he do it?" she thought. "He has to." Then she heard the explosions, one after the other. The sounds all came together until she couldn't tell them apart. She didn't even slow down, but tears came to her eyes. "Oh my dear sweet Cassius," she whispered to herself. "Forgive me, my darling. Please forgive me."

She drew a pistol and shot and stabbed her way past four mortal guards as she relentlessly approached the drawing room. The moment she reached the double doors, they flew open. A beautiful young blonde woman in a nurse's uniform ran out, and then froze when she saw Ceirdwyn. The woman's eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open.

"Run, you slut!" Ceirdwyn shouted. "Run before I change my mind!" The woman obeyed, and Ceirdwyn entered the dimly lit room.

He was in his wheelchair, backed against the wall where a large picture window overlooked the lake. He was old, withered and ravaged by time, but it was he. He stuttered as he asked, "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Your death, old man," she hissed, and walked into the light.

"Himmel" he cried out, trembling so hard his wheelchair shook. Somehow, he remembered. "It cannot be! I killed you, almost 60 years ago!" He shook his head. "Nein! Nein! It is impossible. It must have been your grandmother."

The Immortal woman warrior chuckled cruelly. "Believe whatever you want, you miserable scum." She heard fighting and men dying in the halls outside. Cassius must have recovered even faster than she thought he would. He was protecting her as always. "He loves me so much", she thought, "and I've used him so badly". She drove all regrets from her mind. She couldn't weaken, not now.

Von Bock desperately struggled to stay calm. "I have much money. You can leave here rich, safe, and in peace. Why waste your life avenging a woman you never knew? How much do you want? Name your price!" All he did was to focus her attention on him again.

"Shut up, damn you!" She put her sword to his throat and kicked his wheelchair, and von Bock gasped in fear. "There's not enough money in the world to pay for what you did!"

The old Nazi squirmed. "Wait, wait please. Let us talk. Give me a minute. Bitte. Bitte." Out of the corner of her eye, Ceirdwyn saw him reaching under his robe. She pricked his hand with her sword, and he pulled it away, howling in pain. She deftly cut away the belt of his robe, then stuck her sword under it and saw what he had been reaching for.

"Your pistol, the same one from '45 isn't it? Do you still have the dagger, too?" He didn't respond, so she slowly placed the sword to his throat again. "Answer me!"

"Ya! Ya!" Von Bock was sweating like a pig, nearly convulsing with fear. "But I am not a Nazi anymore! I am just an old man waiting to die. I am half-dead anyway."

"That's not enough." Her voice was now calm. She drew her sword back and von Bock held up his hands and closed his eyes.

"Ceirdwyn, no!" It was Cassius. Bleeding, his clothes torn, he limped towards her. As he came closer, von Bock stared in amazement as his body healed itself.

"So you really do think I am stupid, don't you?" he said. Ceirdwyn was still looking at von Bock, but she could hear the hurt and pain in his voice.

"You knew?" she asked, her sword still at the German's throat.

"Not at first. I am not very smart, as you know. But I wondered why you changed your mind so quickly back in Paris. I wondered why you insisted I behead those two _vigliacci_. It took me a little bit, but then I understood. You were going to kill this old man all along. If those two had not appeared, you would have found some other excuse to get me out of the way. I am easy to fool, no?"

Keeping her sword on von Bock, she turned and faced him. She was weeping again. "Cassius, you have no idea what he did to me, and to David. Not really."

"Ceirdwyn, I see pain in your eyes and anger in your voice that I have never seen before in nearly 2,000 years. He must have done terrible things, but this is not the way."

"It's the only way!" she cried out. "The only way!"

"I did not behead Moder and Prochnow. You know I don't kill people when they're helpless, even such as them. I used grenades to fake the Quickening and drive off the others, but may Heaven forgive me, I must have killed at least six poor mortals trying to reach you.

Ceirdwyn was not moved. "No great loss."

"Yes, Ceirdwyn. It is a great loss. But I could not abandon you. I read those reports you showed me. I know what his people do to their enemies. Alone, you would be shot. Then they would cut off your hands and your head. Even if Moder or Prochnow didn't do it, you would still be dead forever. I could not allow that."

Von Bock was half-crazy with confusion and fear. "You are both _verruckt_, crazy! I don't know what you're talking about, but I can make you rich. Listen to me!"

Ceirdwyn raised her sword above her head. "Shut up, you Nazi pig! You die now!" She took a deep breath. "For David!"

Two shots rang out. Both bullets slammed into her back and she dropped her sword. She fell forward and landed at von Bock's feet. Somehow she managed to get up on her knees and turn around. She saw Cassius standing there, the smoking Beretta pistol in his hand. This time, he was the one crying.

She felt herself drifting away. "Why?" she asked weakly. Then she pitched forward to the floor, and into oblivion.

"For your soul, Cara Mia," Cassius whispered softly. He holstered his pistol and ran to her side. He put her saber back in her scabbard; then as gently as if she were an infant, he lifted her up in his arms, her head resting on his chest.

Von Bock was muttering "_Ich verstehe nicht_ (I don't understand)" over and over. Their attention was drawn to the picture window by the sound of a helicopter approaching the castle. Despite the darkness, Cassius recognized it, and smiled.

"You will never understand, old man," he told von Bock. You don't have the time. You want to guess who is coming for you?"

The ex-SS officer thought for a moment. Then a look of horror crossed his face. _"Juden_!" he screamed. "Israelis! No! Not them! They will drag me to their misbegotten desert country; parade me before their people. Then, they will hang me!"

"Perhaps, if you are lucky." Cassius turned around and carried Ceirdwyn toward the door. The old man didn't matter to him anymore, but von Bock was desperate.

"No, do not leave. You killed your woman to save me. You must want money. Save me! I will give you all the money you want!"

Cassius didn't even turn around. "I did not shoot her to save you, and I don't want your money!" He went through the doors and into the hallway. The dead, wounded, and unconscious littered the floor. The rest of the guards and staff had fled in panic. Von Bock, still shaking, kept babbling.

"You Italian dolt! The Jews will not get me! I will not be judged by anyone!"

Cassius ignored him. He awkwardly pressed the button to an elevator von Bock had installed in the castle years ago. It opened almost immediately, and he entered it with Ceirdwyn. As he waited for it to close, he could still hear the old man.

"I will win! I will win! Heil Hitler!" The sound of a single gunshot filled the air, and then there was silence as the elevator door finally closed.

Cassius tenderly kissed the woman he loved on the forehead. "No, murderer; you have lost. There are no Israelis in that helicopter. I never said there were. And you will be judged – by God."

Cassius was barely outside the castle gate when he heard the anguished shout behind him. "Stop, Roman! It is not finished." He turned around and faced his challenger. It was Rolf Moder, clutching his sword.

"Where is Prochnow?" Cassius asked.

"The coward ran. I won't. Fight me or I will behead you both where you stand. Do you hear me, 'Dunderhead of Rome'?" Moder held his sword vertically in front of him, the traditional sign of a challenge.

Cassius sighed and accepted the inevitable. There was no talking to this one. He slowly and carefully put Ceirdwyn down, putting his woolen watch cap under her head. Then he stood up straight and faced Moder, his face empty of emotion. Slowly, he drew the sword he had carried for over 2,000 years, held it up in acceptance of the challenge and advanced, ready for yet another futile duel in the "Game" he so hated. This fight lasted only a few seconds longer than the one before. The Quickening was violent but brief, though the sparks and flashes helped the helicopter pilot locate the landing pad. He hovered above, waiting.

Cassius waited by the small landing pad. Ceirdwyn had still not revived. He thought it was better that way. There would be time to talk later. Guided by Cassius' signal beam, the pilot made a perfect landing, leaned over, and opened the passenger door of the Bell helicopter. Delicately and quietly, Cassius put Ceirdwyn inside the aircraft. Then he got in, secured both their seatbelts and shut the door.

"Care to talk about it?" Marcus Remus asked.

Cassius put his arms around Ceirdwyn and rested her head on his shoulder. She moaned softly as she started to revive. "Not right now, please. I just want to take her home."

Marcus nodded. He pulled back carefully on the control stick and the helicopter slowly rose until it was well above the castle. In the distance he could see the lights of the Swiss police cars he had radioed in 10 minutes earlier heading in the direction of the castle. Then he turned the helicopter and took it soaring over the mountains and back to France. 

FINIS

All Immortal characters are the property of Davis Panzer, except Marcus Remus, who was inspired by the characters created by Gregory Widen. All characters portrayed are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No copyright infringement was intended. This was done strictly for fun. 


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